


The Way They Are

by author_abz



Category: iCarly
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Gen, Meddlesome kids, Sam is a Drake Bell fangirl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author_abz/pseuds/author_abz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carly can't stand not knowing what's going on with Sam and Spencer, and the more she investigates, the more she freaks out (while Sam and Spencer have virtually no reaction whatsoever).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a Thursday night, and Carly laughs as Sam and Spencer veer into their own side conversation, one where, almost immediately, she has no idea what they’re talking about. She tells them how ridiculous they are, and that she’s going upstairs to do some homework. Spencer tells her to do what her heart tells her, and Sam keeps talking, waving a hand in Carly’s direction. Forty-five minutes later, she comes back down the stairs to see them sitting in front of the television; they immediately shush her, engrossed in a celebrity reality show Carly never wants to see again.

To get away from the stupidity on the screen, Carly decides to go over to Freddie’s apartment to watch the newest addition to Freddie’s Steven Spielberg movie collection. Sam and Spencer don’t notice her leave, but five hours later, when she realizes she should come back home, they don’t notice her either. They’re both asleep in front of a blue television screen, slumped down low with their heads on top of each other. Carly walks over to them, poking Sam to wake her up. Carly doesn’t really think a whole lot of it, because she’s woken Sam up before in the exact same manner many times, but she’s never gotten the reaction she receives now.

As she pokes her in the shoulder repeatedly, Sam shakes her head slowly and shifts into Spencer, moving her head onto his chest and circling her arms around him, in turn waking him up to re-position too – his arms wrapped around her holding her to him, resting his head back on the couch. Carly pokes Sam again, but she doesn’t move, mumbling, “I’m sleepin’. Leave me alone,” and with more pokes she continues, “I’m comfy, go ‘way, stop it.” And with a grunting sigh, nuzzling her head down, Sam falls soundly back asleep.

Thoroughly frustrated, Carly tiredly walks to the kitchen searching blindly in the dark for their air-horn, now determined to wake them up. It takes her a good ten minutes of blind rummaging to remember it was actually in Spencer’s room, and a few more to find it in there. Back in the living room, she covers an ear and presses the button near their heads. Both Sam and Spencer jerk awake, sitting upright, and Carly, satisfied, drops the air-horn. Sam barks, annoyed, “Was that really necessary?!” while Spencer covers his ears, simultaneously trying to cover himself back up with the blanket.

 

Carly just croaks at them, “Bed. Now,” lightly shoving them so neither falls back asleep on the couch. It works as they start to shuffle to bed, and so does Carly, too exhausted to think about anything else.

\---

 

“So Sam, what’re we doing on Saturday?” Carly asks, plopping down into a beanbag chair after their weekly rehearsal, tired from her faux enthusiasm.

Sam looks at her confused, plopping down herself, “We’re doing something on Saturday?”

“No, what are we doing?”

“I didn’t know we were doing anything.”

Freddie butts in, “Carly doesn’t either, that’s why she’s asking.”

Carly rolls her eyes, “Thanks, Freddie.”

“Hey, just trying to help the brainless wonder over there.”

Sam doesn’t seem to catch any of this, telling them, “But I’m already doing something on Saturday.”

“You are? What? With who? Did you get a date and not tell me?”

Sam still looks confused, “Me and Spencer are going to that concert I told you about. With the lead singer I’m dying to meet? Spencer says he’s got a plan to help me meet him.”

“Wait – wha- ?”

“I don’t know how he’s going to pull it off, but he seems really confident and I just want to see them live. Up close. In person.”

“You’ve got plans with Spencer?”

“I thought he told you?”

 

Carly doesn’t really remember what else happens in that conversation, but she knows Sam knows almost every detail of her plans with Spencer on Saturday – that Carly doesn’t think actually needs to take all day, but it does. When Saturday comes, she’s left alone in the loft feeling awkward until Freddie comes over, insisting they go out to a movie. It’s the new movie Carly’s been wanting to see and she really enjoys herself. When she gets home she never realizes that Sam and Spencer aren’t back yet, even though they told her they would be back an hour before that.

\---

 

Wednesday rolls around, and Carly is particularly content as she sits in Mrs. Briggs class. She only has one class after this, she got an A on the test and the paper she got back, and every time Freddie smiles at her she gets a little flutter in her stomach. So on the whole, Carly is having a good day. She would attempt to skip home if that wasn’t lame and if she didn’t look so stupid skipping. That is, until Ms. Briggs barks out, “Sam!”

Sam jumps in her seat, clearly not paying Ms. Briggs any attention, and Carly knows that this will not end well. “Sam, what do you have under your desk?” She walks closer, staring Sam down, and for once Sam looks both guilty and upset at being caught. “Is it a cell phone?”

“No, it is not a cell phone.”

“Hand it over.”

Sadly, Sam gives her phone to Ms. Briggs, and watches as it goes to the front of the room in a box marked “Dangerous Items.” Carly watches her best friend’s expression throughout the rest of class, and she acts like nothing but herself. It’s an incredibly irritating situation for Carly, because it doesn’t add up in her head; Sam doesn’t listen and looks bored and unworried, but she did look genuinely upset and sad that she had her cell phone taken away. Ms. Briggs’s policy is that all confiscated items can be retrieved after school, or after any school day after today, but when class ends, Carly decides to try her luck.

“Ms. Briggs?”

“Yes, Carly?”

“I know Sam can’t have her phone back until after school, but I was wondering if I could have it.” Ms. Briggs raises her eyebrows, and she knows it’s time for her ‘Sam is such a delinquent, and I know because she’s my best friend, and I put up with it all the time’ spiel. “Sam and I don’t even have the next class together, so I won’t actually see her until after school, and we both know that Sam won’t come to pick it up after school – she’ll forget about it for days and it’ll just be sitting there, and I’ll be the one who has to pick it up anyway. So why not just skip to the end?” There’s a pause where Carly hopes this’ll work, and once she senses it won’t, adds, “Plus, this way I can hold it hostage longer, maybe actually get her to do her homework.”

Carly stands there being scrutinized, hoping she’s giving off the impression Ms. Briggs is getting the better side of the deal here. A few seconds later, she gets the nod of approval and grabs the phone before there’s a chance for Ms. Briggs to change her mind. In the hallway, Carly smiles widely at her success, but before she reaches her locker Sam is in front of her. “You got it! Yes.” She goes to take it back from Carly, who pulls back.

“Hold on! Who were you texting?” She opens the phone and scans through all of Sam’s newest read and unread texts, and the further she goes the wider her eyes get. “These are all from Spencer!”

 

Sam grabs her phone out of Carly’s hands, “I know!” She scans through her phone, “He texted me the whole time, too – jerk.” Even though she knows she just said ‘jerk,’ Carly watches Sam smile broadly looking at her phone, and an uncomfortable feeling starts to gnaw at the pit of her stomach.

\---

 

The next Thursday night, Freddie, Carly, and Sam are in the iCarly studio rehearsing for that week’s show, and everything is going perfectly. Unusually, it’s going to be a shorter show, and when they get to the end, Sam complains, “I still have energy! We need it to be longer!”

Freddie frowns at her, “It’s not even three minutes shorter than usual!”

Carly rolls her eyes and brings up the fact, “You were fine with a shorter show when we planned it out.”

“Yeah, but I think this now.”

Freddie chimes in, “Okay, but we don’t have anything. Do you have a bit we could use?”

“I dunno,” Sam shrugs, but a split second later she says, “Spencer has some great new sculptures we could show. People love that.”

Freddie raises his eyebrow in interest, “That could work.”

“Yeah, but we have to ask Spencer…”

Sam just gives Carly a look and hollers, “SPENCER!”

“What?” echoes up the stairs.

“Can we use your sculptures?”

“What?”

Sam looks like she going to keep yelling, so Carly interjects, “GET UP HERE.”

After a minute Spencer walks into the room, covered in paint and dried clay, “What’s up?”

“We want to show some of your stuff on tomorrow’s show.”

Carly cuts in, “She means, is it okay if we –”

“Yeah, sure – which ones?”

Freddie shrugs, and as Carly thinks about it for she realizes she hasn’t seen sculptures around recently, but Sam is looking at Spencer thoughtfully. “Did you finish that leaf – ”

“Last week.”

“What about the whole ‘the earth is flying so fast’ whatever it was?”

“Finally finished it yesterday.”

Sam hits him on the arm, “You didn’t show me!”

“It wasn’t done when you were here! So ow,” he pushes her back lightly, “maybe I won’t show you now.”

Sam’s face falls a little, but Spencer smiles and she continues. “And, what are you wearing? Can we show that?”

He looks confused for a second until Sam picks off a chunk of clay from his shirt, “Yeah, it’s just drying now.”

 

Freddie speaks up, commenting on the layout, timing, and asks some questions that are actually pertinent. Carly just stares, amused by all of them, wondering when her life turned into whatever the hell this is, because she has no clue.

\---

 

As a rule, Carly has fun doing the web show, but tonight there isn’t a moment when her smile falters, or she isn’t a second away from laughing. The art stayed in the studio the whole time, so both girls had to keep weaving in and out of the sculptures, ducking and trying to be seen over Spencer’s work. And it wasn’t clear if he was helping with that problem, or he just decided to come in early, but Spencer showed up halfway through the show, which increased their comedy, but greatly reduced their efficiency. Not that Carly noticed through all of her laughing. Either way it was one of the most chaotic, most hilarious, unplanned webisodes they ever did, and Carly feels extremely triumphant by the time they sign off.

Freddie stays calm but amused until he can put his cameras away properly, away from danger, and then he comes over to Carly smiling and jumping in time with her. She doesn’t have to explain and he doesn’t have to ask, they can both feel the high from a successful webcast. They take a minute, bouncing and giggling before calming down enough to turn and see Sam and Spencer among the sculptures. Carly stops bouncing but her smile won’t fade; watching Sam pelt Spencer with stuffed animals, the two dodging in and out of the towering sculptures, throwing out insult after insult. Standing next to her, Freddie grins too, and after ducking a flying wiener dog, suggests they get out of harm’s way.

While Freddie attempts to whip up a snack downstairs in the kitchen, Carly realizes something important: while her best friend and her brother are extremely entertaining, she hadn’t felt like part of the conversation, or fight, or even the show the whole time.

The small gnawing at the pit of her stomach grows in size as Freddie sets down her plate in front of her, “Hey.” Her voice is low and she asks him slowly, “Will you watch Sam and Spencer for me?”

 

Freddie doesn’t comment; she’s pretty sure from the way her voice is wobbling he understands. “Sure.”

\---

 

“He really wants to interview you?” Spencer pours everyone some punch, looking ecstatic.

Freddie nods from his laptop. “Yeah, but not in person.”

“He wants to do it online. Like a chat room or something.”

“Because we’re not worth flying out to really meet him.”

Spencer looks like he’s been struck. “But he still wants to interview you! And you are a webshow, so it does make sense…” All three teenagers just glare back at him until he continues. “Okay, so it’s not all that. But it’s still David Letterman, watched by millions of people all over the country. Plus,” he adds, “anyone who watches that is old and has never heard of you.”

Carly nods slowly, still upset. “Yeah, I guess it is still pretty good.”

Freddie thinks for a second and says, “And it does make it easier for us, too – I mean, the ACT test is the next day.”

“Nobody cares about the stupid test, Freddie.”

Carly interjects, “Yes they do!”

“I just really wanted to go to New York,” Sam pouts, lying down on the couch.

Spencer rolls his eyes towards Carly and Freddie. “You can be on a talk show more than once.” After a second of thought, he adds, “And if you’re lucky you might even move up from Letterman to Leno.”

He plops down on the chair next to her and Sam smirks, turning on the TV. “Leno does kick Letterman’s ass.”

 

And with that the discussion’s over, Freddie digging out what may or may not be homework (no one can ever tell), and Carly staring at Sam and Spencer in disbelief for a while before remembering her own schoolwork.

\---

 

Saturday morning, Carly wakes up tangled in the sheets of her bed, and as she plops back onto her pillow in frustration, she presses the number 3 on her speed dial. “Freddie? I need to talk to you. Meet me at the Groovy Smoothie in ten minutes?”

It only takes her five minutes to get there, two of which she spends untangling herself from her bed, and she spends ten minutes after she gets there pacing through the chairs sitting on top of the tables. Even though the Groovy Smoothie doesn’t open for another four hours, Carly knows how to jiggle the handle to get in. Or maybe T-Bo forgot to properly lock up the previous night, she isn’t sure, but she really couldn’t care. Freddie walks in on her fifth lap around the shop, his hair sticking out oddly, buttons mismatched on his shirt, and boogers in his eyes.

“Hey,” he mumbles, trying for a second to sit down before realizing there were no chairs.

“So?”

He waits for her to go on, but she doesn’t and he has to ask, “So what?”

“So?” her voice is anxious and pointed.

“Carly, it’s six thirty, and I’m here, and that’s all I got. I am not the conversation starter here.”

She starts to pace around him as he takes down a chair and slumps into it. “Sam and Spencer!”

“Oh, right. Everything’s normal.” He looks down and notices his buttons. “There’s nothing to notice.”

“Aha!” Carly shouts, “Exactly!”

“Exactly what?”

“Everything’s normal.”

“Right.”

“Wrong!”

Freddie gives up on his mismatched buttons. “Okay, I’m confused.”

“You think everything’s normal, but it’s not. And that’s totally the worst part, Freddie. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Of what? Being normal? I still don’t – “

“It’s – I just – Freddie. They do stuff together all the time, they’re like, best friends, and I’ve found them asleep on the couch more than one time.”

“But so what? They’re friends, right?”

“No, Freddie. It’s just all weird, and then they act like they always have and it’s just all really weird. Because they fall asleep all cuddly and I have to wake them up and they don’t even notice. The whole thing is wrong, but Sam and Spencer don’t notice that everything is wrong, and that’s the worst part!”

Freddie is bent over, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. “Okay,” he draws the word out and pauses long enough for Carly to take some deep breaths and take down a chair for herself. Taking his head out of his hands he asks, “What do you mean they fall asleep all cuddly?”

“I mean, her head’s on his shoulder, arms around each other, cuddly snuggling!”

He cocks his eyebrow at her. “No way.”

“I’m not lying! It just really bugs me because they didn’t even notice! They just went to bed!”

“Carly…”

“So I don’t know if something’s going on, or what they’re not telling me, or… I don’t know. Freddie, you have to help me.”

He burrows his face in his arms on the table. Then he peeks up to see Carly and huffs, saying, “Okay, fine – but it’s six in the morning, Carls.”

 

Carly lays her head in her own arms and she whispers across the table to Freddie everything that’s bothering her, and eventually they come up with a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks she's getting some. Some of _it_.

Monday at school, Freddie is on alert, thoroughly traumatized by his weekend with Carly. On the way to his first class he runs into Gibby. “Hi Gibbs.”

 

“Hey Freddie.”

“Hey, this is gonna sound crazy, but I was wondering if you’ve noticed anything different about Sam.”

“Sam?” Gibby takes a second to think, and then starts nodding. “Yeah, she has seemed a little different.”

“Really?” Freddie was hoping Carly was imagining things, and Gibby could be a voice of reason. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “She hasn’t attacked me in a while.” They stop in front of their classroom and Gibby leans in closer to Freddie, whispering, “And just between us, I was thinking she just really needed to get some, and I’m glad she has.” He winks at Freddie, slapping him on the shoulder; it simultaneously gives Freddie nausea and a sinking feeling in his gut.

\---

During the next passing period, Freddie hurries to find Carly and pulls her to a quiet corner in the hallway. She looks confused and worried, but waits for Freddie to say something before she reacts. He looks around suspiciously before telling Carly in a whisper, “We have a problem.”

 

“What?”

 

He looks around more before he responds, a grimace on his face. “I talked to Gibby, and he’s glad that Sam’s getting some.”

“Some of what?”

He takes another suspicious glance around before looking carefully at Carly, raising his eyebrows and repeating, “Getting some. Some of it.” He opens his eyes wider, and he squeezes Carly’s arm a bit more.

A few seconds later it hits her. “Oh! Oh my god! Oh my god, Freddie!” She looks around, scandalized, making sure no one heard them.

“I know! I just told you because… I don’t know! It’s weird and Gibby thought it was me!”

“What?”

“I dunno, he like winked, and patted me on the back, and it was very uncomfortable!”

Both teens are standing in various distress stances, arms flailing, when Gibby walks up to them asking, “What are you doing?”

“Freddie is not sleeping with Sam!” Carly shouts, any thought for covert conversations forgotten.

Gibby holds his hands up. “You’re right, I’m sorry – forget I said anything.”

The other two sway in anxiety and squeeze back into their secret corner, and his interest piqued, Gibby follows a step behind. “No!” Carly starts, but as she opens her mouth again nothing comes out, leaving Freddie to finish. “I think we need your help and outside opinion. We’re in way over our heads.”

“Wait, so is Sam getting some action or not? I’m confused.”

The bell rings over Carly’s open mouth, so she throws her hands up in frustration telling him, “We’ll fill you in later!”

\---

After school in the safety of Freddie’s apartment, Mrs. Benson being at work, Carly and Freddie relate to Gibby what Carly has seen, what she thinks, and how and why Freddie agrees with her. Gibby listens with interest, but after every point he repeats it at least three times, just to make sure he understands. After their fifth point of evidence, Carly gets up and starts to pace, and tries to simplify, “They’re together all the time and they don’t know and they need to know, and it’s driving me nuts and we have to do something!”

 

It takes at least another twenty minutes of her pacing and Freddie filling in the occasional gaps for Gibby to understand what she means. Eventually Gibby gets to the question, “So you think Sam and Spencer are in love with each other, but they don’t know they are?” Freddie and Carly both nod, but after a second Gibby looks confused again. “So what do you need me for?”

 

“Well, I mean, do you think we’re right?”

 

“Or maybe you could watch them and tell us we’re crazy and they’re really not in love.”

“I think they are, just by what you guys’ve told me. You seem pretty sure.”

Carly rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but I’m bias because it’s my idea, and Freddie might be bias because I told him, and he was tired and he just wanted me to shut up, I don’t know.”

“You just want to know what I think.” Gibby says slowly.

Carly nods, but Freddie clarifies, “We have to come up with a plan, and you can help us with the plan. I’m not so sure about what you think.” They look at him confused for a second before he goes on, “You thought I was sleeping with Sam. I’m don’t know if I trust what you think.”

Carly smiles at him for a second as Gibby mutters under his breath, walking towards the door, “Can’t even make one mistake, said I was sorry…” And in a louder voice says, “Are we going over there or not?”

\---

It takes Gibby approximately an hour to reach a conclusion about Sam and Spencer. When he, Carly and Freddie go up to the studio he actually tells them he’s surprised it took them so long and so many different examples. “I thought it was really obvious just from the way they look at each other. Like we weren’t even there, y’know?” His tone is upbeat, and he’s talking like they had all just been to a really great amusement park.

Carly, however, looks nauseous, sinking into a bean bag chair and clutching a pillow to her chest. “So they’re really in love? I wasn’t wrong?”

Freddie plops down next to her. “People are generally happy when they’re proven right.”

“I didn’t want to be right!”

Gibby cuts off their conversation quickly, “So, what’s next?”

“I don’t know! I never thought past getting other people to believe me, because I am not crazy!”

“Um, do we have to do anything else?”

“We have to stop making me feel uncomfortable!”

“Well,” Gibby looks confused again, “I thought you guys said they didn’t know they were in love. Shouldn’t they know?”

It takes a few seconds before this idea sinks in for Carly and Freddie. His brow is still furrowed in concentration when she speaks up, “Can we even do that?”

“No, do we want to do that?” Freddie talks to the floor, his face still screwed up, thinking, “I don’t want any more to do with Sam’s love life than I have to.”

“Well, you don’t have to talk to Sam, Carly would be better at that anyway, right?”

“I have to say something?” She seems horror-struck. “I mean, I’m okay with them knowing but do I have to tell them?”

 

Gibby tries very hard not to roll his eyes at Carly with her wide, panicked eyes, and Freddie who has his hands in his hair and looks like he wants to evaporate on the spot. “C’mon, guys, one step at a time.”

\---  
The next day proves much easier for Carly to feign nonchalance than she could have hoped for the previous day. As Carly watches Sam throughout the day she thinks it’s extremely helpful that she hasn’t contacted or talked about Spencer all day, and so with that cheering idea in her head she persuades Sam to come to the Groovy Smoothie. “C’mon, it’ll be just us girls, and there will be smoothies!” Carly feels like she’s trying too hard, but Sam just smiles at her.

“Did you forget to take your medicine today, Carls?”

“Nope, all good!” she says brightly, grabbing Sam’s arm and dragging her onto the sidewalk outside.

“Fredwardo’s really not coming? Just us?”

 

Smiling for real Carly tells her, “Like old times. Come on.”

\---  
In the Shay loft, Gibby and Freddie are trying to focus Spencer’s attention. “We have a mission!” Freddie ends up shouting irritably, Spencer rushing past him for the fourth time with supplies in his arms.

“From the future!”

“No it’s not!”

“Hey dude,” Gibby says, “let me have my dreams.”

Trying not to laugh, Spencer comes to stand in front of them. “Okay, what?”

Looking uneasy, Freddie opens and closes his mouth several times before Gibby asks, “Is there anything going on between you and Sam?”

“That’s – that’s actually, good idea, Gibbs,” Freddie lets out in relief before looking back to Spencer.

“What d’you mean?”

There’s a pause where Freddie gives way to Gibby again, “If someone asked you who Sam is, you would say… ?”

“I would say Sam is a person you don’t want to mess with.”

Freddie puts his face in his hand for a second, “No, we mean, ‘hi sir, this is my friend Gibby’” he indicates Gibby standing next to him, and Gibby picks up, “And ‘hello sir, this is my girlfriend…’”

“Oh! Yes ‘hello kind sir, this is my friend, Sam.’” Spencer imitates the two, who look back up at him, frustrated.

“So you two are just friends?”

“There’s nothing going on between you and Sam?”

“What? No, there’s nothing; what, are there rumors going around school or something?” he looks genuinely concerned as Freddie simply shakes his head. “Then what? Me and Sam are friends, so what?”

Gibby and Freddie look at each other for a second, eyebrows up in silent communication, before Gibby tells Spencer in a serious voice, “We’re here to bring you out of self-denial.”

Spencer takes a half-step back, “Denial? What denial?”

Freddie takes a deep breath, “Spencer, you’re in love with Sam.”

A smile breaks out on Spencer’s face, “You think I’m in love with Sam?” he says, laughing, “Really? That’s what I’m in denial about?”

Offended, Freddie shouts, “Yes! You are! You’re in love with each other! I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and so has Carly, and Gibby agrees!”

Helpfully, Gibby adds, “It’s really obvious, Spencer. Sam too. She’s got it bad.”

Still smiling, Spencer shakes his head, turning to go into the kitchen. “Thanks you guys, but I know –”

“No!” Freddie races out in front of him. “You are going to listen to us, and you are going to realize how in love you are! That’s our mission!”

“From the future.” Gibby comes up behind Spencer, and together they shepherd him to the couch, his smile gone.

“You guys, I’m not in love with Sam.”

“That’s what you think.”

Freddie takes another deep breath before addressing Spencer from the nearby chair, “Can you please just hear us out? It’s not like I want to do this.” Spencer grudgingly nods a second later and Freddie goes on, “You guys spend all of your time together, and even when you don’t you’re constantly on the phone or texting with each other.”

“Because we’re friends! Friends spend lots of time together.”

“You don’t look at her like she’s your friend,” Gibby chimes in, “you look at her like … geez I don’t even know – it’s like she’s everything you ever wanted. Just… you know, happy – in love.”

Spencer can’t help but smile a little, watching how anxious these two are observing him for his own good. “I don’t know what my eyes are doing, but I can tell you that inside here, I’m not in love with Sam.”

“You’re always on the phone together or texting…”

“I talk to Socko on the phone all the time, and I’m not in love with him.”

“Yeah,” Freddie admits, “but it’s not really that you’re on the phone, it’s the way you’re on the phone.”

He raises his eyebrows, “The way I’m one the phone? Like I just look at Sam in a special way?”

“You talk to Socko on the phone and you plan things, or get questions answered, or whatever you talk about with him. Sam calls you, and you stay on the phone twice as long as you would with Socko, or anyone else, and it’s never about anything!”

“How would you guys know what Sam and I talk about?”

Gibby simply shrugs, looking to Freddie who rolls his eyes. “I don’t think you know just how much you’re actually on the phone. I hang out with Sam too, and I’ve overheard some really pointless conversations.”

Spencer looks offended and hurt. “Pointless to you, maybe…”

Gibby puts a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, looking serious again, “We haven’t even gotten to the real heavy stuff, Spence. There’s more.”

“More than the nothing there just was? Oh, good.”

Gibby turns to his friend solemnly saying, “Tell ‘im, Freddie.”

Freddie starts talking before Spencer can properly roll his eyes. “I haven’t actually seen any of this firsthand, but Carly told me about it, and from what I have seen I can believe it.” He pauses, and Spencer isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be for effect or if he can’t bring himself to say it. “One of the things you and Sam do, as friends, supposedly, you watch TV – ” Spencer can’t help but let out a snort of laughter before Freddie’s glare quiets him, “you watch TV – but you never leave the couch, you fall asleep.” He pauses again and Spencer really has no idea how this is supposed to prove he and Sam are in love. “Carly’s found you two, asleep, on the couch, a lot. Not just asleep, but like, all over each other kind of asleep.”

Freddie seems to have lost his voice as he moves his arms around awkwardly, and meeting Spencer’s eye he has to divert his gaze immediately to the floor. “What d’you mean ‘all over each other’? I’ve never been ‘all over’ Sam.”

Gibby takes over matter-of-factly, “Carly said that you guys fall asleep on top of each other, your head on her head, or her head on your shoulder, and you put your arms around each other. She says the easiest way to describe it is as cuddling.”

“Cuddling? Carly thinks that Sam and I cuddle?”

“She says it happens all the time, and you guys never notice when she wakes you up.”

Confused, Spencer looks between the two boys. “I don’t ever remember cuddling with Sam. I think I would remember.”

Speaking to the floor Freddie adds, “If you were really asleep, Spencer, you wouldn’t remember waking up – but that’s not the point. Whether you realize it or not you and Sam are falling asleep together and doing whatever you don’t do when you’re awake.” They look at him a second before he clarifies, “I mean you don’t hold hands or hug or whatever when you’re conscious, so you do it when you’re unconscious.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at Freddie’s obvious discomfort. “Well, even if we do fall asleep on the couch, it doesn’t mean we’re in love. I’m sure Sam’s head or her shoulder is a lot comfier than the couch. We’re comfortable with each other, it’s just something that happens. The only thing it really means is that we get really tired watching TV.”

Gibby looks doubtful and Freddie’s head is in his hands. “You really don’t think you’re in love with Sam?”

“No, Gibby, I am not in love with Sam.”

 

Freddie shakes his head silently as Gibby tells him, “I don’t think so.” And together the three spend another hour in similar frustration. Gibby and Freddie take turns elaborating on their ideas and observations in an attempt to convince Spencer. Except Spencer continually and without hesitation manages to counter every idea with an explanation about the friendship he and Sam have.

\---  
“Carly, did T-Bo make your smoothie with rotten fruit again? Your face is all pale.” Sam asks, concerned, sipping at her own smoothie.

“No, I’m fine.” She takes a quick sip before correcting herself, “I mean, the smoothie is fine.”

“Okay. But don’t try and cover for T-Bo. I won’t really hurt him, he’ll just be scared.”

Carly nods and can feel Sam’s eyes still on her, so she says to the cup in front of her, “There is something I wanted to talk to you about.” Sam waits for her to go on, and she can’t help but fiddle with her straw before she does. “So. You and Spencer.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re friends. Close friends.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t complain about me being friends with your brother, I haven’t complained about Freddie in… well, a while.”

Carly looks up at her. “No, I’m fine that you’re friends, it’s just… you’re sure you’re friends?”

Sam looks confused. “Yeah.”

“I mean, just friends?”

“What else would we be?”

“I don’t know – maybe – it just seems like you’re more like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Sam takes a second, quietly judging Carly. “You’re serious?” She just nods, and Sam breaks out in a smile. “No. We’re definitely just friends.”

“No, Sam, really. I’m okay if you are. Just tell me. Please, just tell me you and Spencer are together, in love, whatever, and I’ll be fine.”

Sam has to chuckle, “Thanks Carls, but we’re not together.”

Carly glances helplessly around the Groovy Smoothie before letting out a long sigh. “Well, even if you’re not together, you’re definitely in love with each other.”

Sam had been sipping her smoothie at that, and starts choking, “What?!”

Carly waits to make sure her friend can breathe properly before she goes on, fiddling with her straw, trying to keep her voice casual. “I’ve just – I keep noticing you guys, and sometimes it’s hard to tell if we’re all in the future and you and Spencer already have one point five kids, or maybe you guys are in the mushy beginning part of relationships. And I just have to know, y’know?”

Sam’s mouth is hanging open over her smoothie straw and it takes her a second to blink and ask, “What?”

Carly doesn’t move, “You guys are in love, and I just want to make sure you know. Actually, I was hoping we could just get it out in the open so we didn’t have to have this conversation.” She glares at Sam.

“But we’re not in love.”

Carly sighs, “Actually, you are.” She waits to see if Sam responds to this, but all she gets is a look of disbelief. “Okay, first of all, you two spend way too much time together.”

“Half the time we hang out because I’m waiting for you and Freddie – that means we’re in the same place at the same time, not that we’re in love.”

“Oh come on! Yesterday I came home with you and we didn’t go upstairs to rehearse for an hour and a half because you and Spencer were talking.”

“No, we were eating, I would’ve left anytime.”

Carly rolls her eyes. “I tried three times to get your attention – none of them worked – and you were talking about door-handles.”

Sam simply shrugs. “So? I’m allowed to talk to him.”

“I’m not saying you’re not allowed to talk to him! Okay, so last weekend, you spent all day with Spencer and you almost missed iCarly.”

“Yeah, because I’ve never been late before.”

Carly pushes on, “You let him watch Art Road Show the other night when the fight was on.”

She crosses her arms at that, annoyed. “I lost a bet. He just wanted to rub it in,” and while Carly is raising her eyebrows at her she mumbles, “I heard he kicked ass, too…”

“You went and had dinner at the Cheesecake Warehouse three days ago – clearly a date.”

“That wasn’t a date. We were both hungry and didn’t want to cook anything.”

“You’re constantly texting each other.”

“I text you all the time.”

“If I don’t know where you are, I can call Spencer to talk to you, and if I can’t find Spencer I can call you and you’re always with each other.”

“You know, there’s actually some really cool stuff at the junkyard.”

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about half the time because you’ve got so many inside jokes.”

“And?”

“And Gibby thinks you’re in love with each other – after like an hour.”

“When have I ever cared what Gibby thinks?”

“You fall asleep on top of each other.”

“Okay,” Sam points with her smoothie cup, “that is not true.”

Carly crosses her arms. “No, that is true. Do you know how many times I come downstairs or get home and you’re asleep on the couch snuggled up next to him?”

“I don’t –”

“Yes you do! Your head’s on his shoulder and his arms are around you, and in a way it’s so sweet I could vomit, but instead I’m telling you because you have to realize you’re in love with him!”

Sam swirls her smoothie around before slurping up the rest, watching Carly. “I know you think I am, but I’m really not in love with Spencer.”

“Sam!” Carly lets out, exasperated.

“Carly!” Sam echoes, but adds, “Look, me and Spencer are friends, we’re really good friends. I need someone to talk to when you and Freddie go all goo-goo eyed, and he needs someone to bounce ideas off of – it works, we’re friends, that’s all.”

“He bounces ideas off you?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, and sometimes he wants my opinion when he’s in the middle of something, but it’s no big deal.” Carly is silent for a minute, her mouth open slightly, a confused look on her face, and Sam asks, “Is this conversation over? I’m not in love with Spencer and I need another smoothie.”

Carly jumps up, offering to buy another smoothie for both of them, because their conversation is not over. For the next hour, she tries to remember every single instance from the past month when she had been sure her best friend and brother were in love, but Sam just shakes her head at every one, a smile on her face, trying not to laugh.

\---  
Walking into her apartment that afternoon, Carly looks exhausted, but Sam is almost bouncing beside her, her third smoothie in hand. Freddie and Gibby are sitting on the couch, Freddie looking just as trampled as Carly, Gibby looking bored. “Something smells good!” Sam chirps, going into the kitchen to investigate.

 

Freddie looks up at Carly, “Any success?”

“No. You?

“Nothing.”

“Great!” Carly glares at nothing in particular and starts walking toward the stairs, Freddie and Gibby following her.

They’re upstairs before Sam turns from the pot she was investigating to the now empty room. “Guys?” she calls out, and when no one responds she rolls her eyes.

“Sam?” Spencer comes out from his hallway, “Hey, I didn’t hear you guys come home. Where’s Carly?”

“They went upstairs.”

“Oh,” he looks around, “I was wondering why Gibby and Freddie were still here.”

“Why were they here?”

Spencer smiles broadly, “You’re never gonna believe this – they were trying to convince me that I’m in love with you.”

“No way!” Sam laughs, “That’s what Carly was just doing!”

“Seriously? I thought they were lying about Carly…” he leans against the island, his gaze unfocused.

Sam crosses her arms. “Nope, Carly was definitely serious.” There’s a pause where Sam tastes what’s in the pot. “Chili?” she asks, excited.

He smiles. “Yep – it’s not too spicy, is it?”

She smacks her lips, dipping her spoon in again. “Nope. Perfect.”

Spencer’s gaze is still a little unfocused. “So you – hey!” he interrupts himself as he notices Sam dipping her spoon in again, “we’re eating that later, get out of that!”

She simply smirks as she eats a heaping spoonful, and then he’s chasing her around the kitchen and trying to wrestle the spoon out of her hand. He ends up hoisting her in the air and hanging her upside down before she topples them both into a mess of tangled limbs, and Spencer finally manages to pull the spoon out of her grip. Standing up, he throws the spoon in the sink and guards the rest of the chili. There’s a second where they face off, still laughing weakly before Spencer says, trying to scowl, “And that’s why I’m not in love with you.”

 

Sam crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t stop smiling as she replies, “And that’s why I’m not in love with you.”

\---  
Carly drops into two of the beanbags sitting next to each other in the studio, her face buried and her hands outstretched. Freddie walks in behind her and lies down on the floor next to her, face up, and he can see the look on Gibby’s face when he follows them. Gibby’s just about to laugh at the pair of them, but Freddie manages to glare at him, so instead he clears his throat, “So.” 

Freddie echoes, “So.”

They both wait for Carly to say something; she doesn’t move, still enveloped in the bean-bags, and her voice is muffled so only Freddie can hear her clearly. “What do we do now?”

He doesn’t bother clueing in Gibby, but answers her quietly, “I don’t know… nothing?”

She sounds even more defeated, so Freddie can barely hear her, “Nothing?”

“We can’t force them into anything.”

“I know.”

They both sigh, and Gibby takes a real seat behind them, turning on the monitor above them.

“I don’t want to give up.” Carly’s voice is so quiet Freddie thinks he imagined it.

Instead, he takes one of her stretched out hands gently, “We’re not ignoring it. Just…” he pauses, scooting closer to her, “maybe let it sink in?”

She sighs and turns her head to him. “Okay.”

They lie there, staring at nothing, until Carly whispers again so only Freddie can hear, “I feel like I failed them.”

 

He squeezes her hand reassuringly. “You didn’t.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We don't have to tell them, do we?

Carly, Sam, Freddie, and Spencer don’t mention either conversation at all for the next couple of days. Carly wants to, but every time she raises her eyebrows, her brother and best friend just keep on smiling and she remembers it won’t help anything to push, so she restrains herself. Most of the time she has to move into the next room, muttering to herself about everything being ridiculous and obvious, and that you do in fact have to respect restraining orders. A few times, in the studio or in between classes at school, she feels like Sam’s baiting her, relaying the most recent or a particularly exciting adventure from hanging out with Spencer. Sometimes she’ll just stop and turn to Carly, smirking or with her eyebrows up, knowing it would be the perfect spot for a so-called love interjection, but Carly bites her tongue. After a week of nothing, Sam stops baiting Carly, and she feels like she’s gone back in time, even Freddie telling her to just drop the issue.

A week later, Carly manages to wrap her head around adjusting to the very suggestive friendship her best friend and brother have, and she giggles thinking up responses to several of their already recurring behaviors. Contemplating double entendres, she almost runs into Principal Franklin in the hallway between third and fourth period. “Carly,” he starts, raising his eyebrows at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Going to class?”

“I thought you were going to the bathroom?” Sam’s bored voice appears behind Carly, “S’up, Franklin?”

“I already went, and we should get to class, right Principal Franklin?”

His face is unaffected by their best friend banter. “I thought Ms. Briggs told you… we got a call about an hour and a half ago – Spencer’s been admitted to the ER. They didn’t tell us what happened, but …” his voice falters a second,” I thought you already knew. I thought you were already there.”

Carly doesn’t feel like she has insides anymore, but she hears herself ask, “What’s the quickest way to get there?” because her brain left with the rest of her insides and she doesn’t remember. He tells her, and reassures her, and grasps her hand, and it makes her feel better, him telling her not to worry about anything.

When she starts to move away, Carly realizes that Sam’s still standing behind her, and before she can move another inch Sam grabs onto her forearm. “I’m coming with you.” Her grip is vice-like, but her voice scares Carly, trembling, thin, and forced. Her breathing is restricted, and Carly pulls her in for a hug.

 

“He’ll be okay.” Carly whispers, and Sam does a sort of half nod and half head-shake into her shoulder before pulling her out the door, wiping her eyes as they go.

 

\---

“He’s going to be okay.” The doctor tells both Carly and Sam in his room two hours later after they finally find his room and a doctor, and then the right doctor.

“See, I’m going to be okay.” Spencer echoes brightly.

“He has three stitches, but he should be completely healed in a few weeks.”

“See! Only three stitches!” He’s practically bouncing, trying to make them both smile, but Sam’s arms are crossed and her face stern, while Carly’s turning her full attention to the doctor, who smiles.

“Just make sure he gets some rest.”

“I will, doctor, thank you.” As he leaves, Carly turns back to Spencer’s bed. “Well?”

Spencer doesn’t even attempt to look sheepish, smiling at his sister sitting at the feet of his bed, Sam at his arm. “I was working, and I fell off a ladder.” He points to each of them. “This is not my fault.”

Carly can’t help but smile at her brother. “You fell off the ladder, that means it is your fault for scaring us.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I will never slip completely by accident painting a sculpture again. Happy?”

“Sure,” she answers, rolling her eyes and looking to her best friend for assistance or a comment or her reaction, but all she sees is Sam fiddling with Spencer’s blankets with one hand, the other on his arm.

 

Carly tries not to smile.

 

\---

It takes just as long for Spencer’s stitches to dissolve as it takes for Sam to stop babying him, making him sit or lie down when he wants to get up to sculpt or cook. It’s a Saturday night when Carly walks into the apartment, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Spencer ducking in the kitchen. “It’s just me!” she shouts, throwing her coat and backpack onto the chair.

Spencer shakes his head a bit to himself as he straightens up. “So, how was homework with Freddie?”

“Oh, you know,” she steals a piece of pineapple he’s slicing, “Extremely productive, Freddie’s a genius and makes me feel stupid, the usual.”

He smiles at his sister. “You should tell him to tone down the nerd.”

She steals another piece of fruit. “No, I kind of like it.”

There’s a second where they share a knowing smile; Carly rolls her eyes and Spencer giggles, turning back to his chopping. “Please tell me Sam is not right behind you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not done with dinner yet, and I want to surprise her.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah. To, y’know, say thanks for caring that I didn’t die…” Carly raises her eyebrows at him, and he keeps grasping at words, letting them out in waves. “Thanks for… taking care of me … and … being there for you – so you didn’t freak out … and I’m healed and can cook again.”

Carly smiles even broader and tells him, “No, I actually don’t know where Sam is – I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Been too busy with Freddie?” Spencer wiggles his eyebrows, going around to the three different pots he has on the stove.

“No, I texted her this morning and she never texted back.”

“So what’s she doing?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t text me back.”

“Wait,” Spencer straightens up and turns to her, “You have no idea where she is?”

“No.”

“Why not?!” he nearly shouts.

She can’t help but shout defensively, “Me? What about you?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you know what she’s doing? You text her more than I do! You call her more than I do, and she tells you more stuff!”

Spencer takes a deep breath, but doesn’t step back to his cooking. “She didn’t tell me what she was doing today, and I’m not gonna call her just so she can tell me to sit down and do nothing!”

Carly crosses her arms. “Don’t get mad at me! You’re the one making dinner, you should’ve made sure she would be here!”

He doesn’t seem to hear her. “Her mom’s not doing anything with her, is she? No, she would’ve texted me… but you never know, right? She can get out of whatever it is, that’s fine. Unless … wait, you don’t think she got arrested, do you?”

Spencer’s face is frozen in panic, but Carly still laughs. “I don’t think she got arrested.”

“But how do we know? She could be in jail right now!”

“Wouldn’t she call you?” she asks him, teasing, but his face falls and he answers, more to himself than his sister.

“She promised me I’d be her one phone call… but she promised not to get arrested anymore too…”

Carly cuts him off, “Spencer. I’m sure she’s just lazy and late.” He nods and shrugs in agreement, but his face remains impassive, and Carly’s sure he still thinks she got arrested and didn’t call him.

Less than five minutes later, Carly, sitting idly on a stool drinking peppy cola, hears the door open and close with, “Wow, it smells good in here!”

Carly turns around to see Sam walk in, and greets her, “Well I hope it doesn’t smell bad in here. So where’ve you been all day?”

Sam’s smile melts and she scowls, “I had to go to the doctor with my mom, and she made me get examined, my phone died in the parking lot, and to end the misery I took a nap.”

“So nothing drastic.”

“No. Just annoying.”

“Good. Spencer was freaking out.”

“I was not freaking out!” He pops out from behind the counter, his apron askew and a wooden spoon in one of his hands. “Sam! Perfect timing, dinner’s ready!”

She raises her eyebrows at him, taking the spoon out of his hand, “Dinner?”

He backs up. “To prove that I can make dinner without hurting myself!”

 

Carly watches them move around the kitchen, Sam tasting things, her disapproval melting away with every step, and every step making Spencer’s smile wider. She can’t help but roll her eyes.

 

\---

When Spencer wakes up, it’s dark and his neck hurts. He moves his head around to alleviate his neck, and he sees that Sam is his pillow. He lays his head back down on top of hers in spite of the neck crick, and breathes deeply, noticing with every breath how uncomfortable he is with the weird positions his limbs are in. Except with every acknowledgement, he knows he doesn’t want to move, he knows that in place of actual comfort there’s a warm, happy ball sitting in his chest, and when he looks over at Sam it grows. His arms are around her, her head is on his shoulder, her face is calm, and without thinking about it, he kisses her on top of the head.

Sam adjusts her position, and Spencer’s glad that their intertwined legs are now separate, hers on top of his, because it’s more comfortable that way. She settles down and he kisses the top of her head again, smiling.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbles, her eyes still closed.

“Are you awake?” he whispers.

“No.”

A minute passes in silence, and he can feel that she’s awake. Without moving or looking at her he says, “I think they were right.”

He feels Sam sigh, “We don’t have to tell them, do we?”

She looks up at him and Spencer smiles. “It can wait,” he says, kissing her gently. She kisses him back, and there’s nothing new screaming at him, nothing scary or unfamiliar, and he’s not sure they haven’t always done this. “Hey.”

“You want to go to bed?”

“I’m so tired.”

“And uncomfortable.”

“C’mon.” He stands up and pulls her off the couch, walking slowly over to his bedroom.

“Spence, wait,” she stops halfway, pulling on his arm. “I love you.”

 

He stoops to kiss her briefly. “I love you, too.”

 

\---

The next morning Carly doesn’t see Spencer at all before she rushes off to school, and she barely makes it on time for homeroom. She doesn’t see Sam until lunchtime, but she doesn’t share two of her morning classes with her either, so Carly reasons it away, and in the confusion of a surprise quiz she’s too distracted to notice, anyway. If you don’t count Principal Franklin’s accidental intercom announcement when he’s on the phone with his wife on speakerphone, or Ms. Briggs yelling at her class until three different people started crying, Carly would say it was a normal day at school.

A normal day at school followed by a normal walk back to Bushwell Plaza, past their unnatural normally annoying doorman, talking to Sam and Freddie about normal, after-school subjects. And normally, Carly walks in with her friends and throws her stuff on the couch or chair or floor, says ‘hi’ to Spencer building something in the middle of the room, and her friends follow her to the kitchen for snacks or upstairs. But that’s not what happens.

Carly leads her two friends into her apartment and sees Spencer in the kitchen with an apron on. All three of them walk over to where Spencer is, completely absorbed in his mixing. The room smells like chocolate cake and possibly peanut butter cookies, and something else delicious she can’t think of immediately. Sam reaches Spencer first and greets him, saying “Hi,” and kissing him.

“Hi.” He looks up for a second to recognize that all three of them are there before turning back to the mixing bowl in his hand.

“What are you fixing?” Sam asks, standing so close to Spencer and the mix she might be trying to take over for him.

Spencer opens his mouth to respond, but Freddie, who stopped short of the kitchen by the barstools when he saw them kiss, interjects, “Um HI.”

“Hi Freddie,” Spencer answers nonchalantly.

“No, I meant, ‘um hi – what is going on here?’”

Carly, who lost her momentum at the end of the couch rushes forward now to echo Freddie. “Yeah! What ‘s going on with the kissing and acting normal? You told me you weren’t in love with each other. You told me that you didn’t even like each other that way!”

“Um,” Spencer scrunches up his face for a long second before answering as Sam plucks a chocolate chip out of the bowl in front of him. “We were wrong?”

“You were right; we’re in love and stuff.” Sam adds nonchalantly, dipping her finger into Spencer’s bowl before he yanks it away and starts stirring again.

Carly has to take some deep breaths before she can say anything, and Freddie can only stand next to her with his hand on his forehead like he has a headache from trying to solve a math problem with a variable missing. Sam and Spencer are turned around once Carly finds her voice. “Of course I was right!” Audibly groaning, the couple turn back to face her. “But why are you all… nothing about it? This is a big deal! It’s a big deal to be in love and stuff! Make a big deal!”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Carly…”

But Spencer cuts her off, “It’s not a big deal, a big deal is that Grandad called today and he’s going to be here tomorrow and he told me things need to be perfect, and the only way I know how to be perfect is to make cookies, and cake, and please, please help me.”

Carly rolls her eyes, grabbing another apron to help, and Sam’s at her arm. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Carly replies just as quietly. But as she organizes the kitchen, she realizes that she already knows it all, and that it’s always been a big thing. She’s really just happy that she was right, and that her best friend and her brother are in love – even if it is with each other.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic, in my head, is otherwise known as "Canon!fic" Because I wanted to create a fic that was canonically realistic, and I also really wanted to do a Carly-centric fic. So this is important. Really important. I have been working on this fic for over a year, so its entirety was developed before Noah Munk/Gibby was a main cast member (ah, my foresight, it is amazing), before the "little crush," and ... other season four occurrences.


End file.
